If Someone Told Me
by Allronix
Summary: The crew of Serenity reflects on what brought them to the ship and what keeps them aboard
1. Default Chapter

"If somebody told me..."

Author: Allronix

Universe: Firefly

Category: V, Multiple POV

Rating: PG (to be on the safe side)

Archive: Sure

If someone told me ten years ago that I'd be preaching the Good Book, I would have told them they were insane.

I'm reading the tale of the prodigal son at the moment. That old story is one of my favorites - personal reasons. It's downtime on the ship, not much to do until we reach New Nebraska. I like this ship. I rent my bunk and do odd jobs to earn my keep, and the people here are plain folk - they're good company and not inclined to ask too many questions. All in all, perfect place for an old man like me.

I used to be a gambler. Don't suppose you knew that, and I don't talk about it much. The Lord knows and that's the only one on this ship who needs to. Went from planet to planet, game to game. I'd earn a fortune at faro, then gamble or debauch it away again. Went through a lot of money that way, and earned my share of trouble, too.

Lady Luck finally abandoned me on Minerva. I forget the name of the town - wasn't important anyway. Got carried away and gambled away all I had. My hidden ace got found, too - yes, I used to lie and cheat, too. Well, those boys took me to an alley and I got thrashed. 

I woke up in the rectory of the local church. The only one with some medical training on that piece of rock was the local preacher. A broken leg meant I'd not be going anywhere for a while. Hated it at first. Yet, the more I learned how to stay still and stay quiet, the more I could hear God. He's quite strict, no getting around that, but He is patient. I guess He likes to wait until you're ready to listen. 

My limp isn't so noticeable anymore. I stayed at the church for some time, teaching myself how to walk again, and trying to see what life was like when you're sober. By the time I was ready to leave, I'd heard the call and was on my way to get ordained. 

I'm thinking that the Lord put me here because these people are a lot like I used to be - good people deep down, but angry and a little lost. Maybe with a little time, they'll quiet down a bit and be able to hear God for themselves. If they ever do, it's my job to be there.


	2. Captain Mal

If someone told me five years ago, I'd be a smuggler, I would have told them they were nuts. 

Five years ago, talk of independence was in every bar, on every street corner and local newsfeed. Times were optimistic - probably a little too optimistic. The Carolina colonies declared independence, along with Shanghai Three. My planet was talking about joining them. Imagine the thought of being able to control our own destines and make our own laws. We wouldn't be in indentured servitude, shipping the best of our planet back to Earth to make some corporate executive rich. Power to the people, nothing to lose but our chains...

Should have known then we didn't have a chance. We may have had the will, but the Alliance had the guns - and will is a pretty poor defense against those. The Alliance didn't particularly care how many people they sent to get killed, either. They knew we couldn't afford the casualties, and they had surplus population. They wanted to prove they owned us. People are property, especially those of us who are terraforming new planets to give their industrial base more resources.  

Well, they do own us. Guess the war proved it. Give it a couple decades, and even the bit of freedom I have now with Serenity will be gone. I'll take what freedom I can while I have it. Inara may be fine with living in a golden cage, but I'm not. She doesn't get it, and I can't blame her. 

The War taught me what freedom would be like, and once you've tasted that, you can't live without it.  I lose Serenity, I lose my freedom. If I don't have freedom, I'd rather not be alive. Pretty simple, really. 

In the meantime, I have cargo, I have a destination, and I have a job waiting when I get there. I reckon it's the most I can ask for and the best I can have.


	3. Zoe

If someone told me three years ago that I'd be here, I would laugh at them.

Three years ago, Mal and I were stuck in Niobrara, bombs going off over our heads, ammo growing scarce, and our only backup being two sectors away. I thought for sure we weren't going to make it. 

During a lull in the firefight, Mal called the unit down into the bunker and quickly took inventory. I'm good at shooting things, but Mal knew how to get things organized and done.  In a few minutes, we knew how many resources we had left until reinforcements could arrive. He kept a cool head when things looked bad, and that earned my respect. Being in the colony militia, I was used to the dandies that had a fancy rank, but ran like rabbits when the shooting started, and the sergeants that tried to emulate them in the worst ways. I figured Mal had been the same until that incident. His cool head allowed us to hold position. We won that battle - of course, the officers took the credit.

Things went from bad to worse in the war, but I never saw that man quit. Not sure if he knows the meaning of the word. I have a hard time with it myself. When he found me again, I was working as a rich man's private guard and hated it. He convinced me to quit and pool my money with his to get a ship. He said that we could get a cook, a mechanic, a pilot...and start living like "real people."

I thought he was nuts. The war made a lot of people that way. The more I saw of Serenity, the more the concept grew on me, though. I could have a safe life as a wage slave, but we both knew I wouldn't be happy with it. 

Besides, the ship itself wasn't the only thing to grow on me. First couple weeks I knew Wash, I wanted to deck him. The next couple weeks after that, I couldn't stop laughing at his jokes. A few weeks after that, we were sneaking off to each other's bunks. Before either of us knew it, we were saying, "I do." My husband never fails to make me laugh, and the look in his eyes when I catch him looking at me makes even this iron woman melt.

So, when I curl up with Wash after a long day and feel him rub the knots from my back as we listen to the hum of the ship around us, everything seems just perfect. No regrets at all.


	4. Wash

If someone told me two years ago I'd be married to the most gorgeous woman in the universe, I would have asked them what they smoked and if I could get my hands on some. Me? The ladies man Wash being tied down with 14K handcuffs? No way!

Ok, ok. Maybe I wasn't so much the ladies' man. Got a lot of flirting done, though. Pilots tend to be the "love 'em and leave 'em" types, anyway. You go from port to port, you have a chick in each one. Hey, no problem! 

I've never hurt for work. People have ships, they need a jockey to fly 'em, and I'm one of the best there is for hire. When I took this job, I was excited about the prospect of flying an old Firefly class. These babies are classics - the Alliance can have their fancy-looking, boring cruisers. This ship's got real guts. 

Of course, I was so unprepared for what else was aboard. Zoë...gorgeous woman, tough as nails. We got into an argument about some modifications I made to the controls and she threatened to kick my ass. Call me weird, but I had never been so turned on by the prospect of getting my ass kicked. I tell her this, and she stops yelling at me. Two seconds later, we are both on the floor laughing. 

I'm hopelessly hooked. She's like the best drug there is and I can't get enough. I really like making her laugh. She doesn't laugh enough, and it's her best feature. I keep wondering what she'll look like when she's old and hope I live long enough to find out. 

Better put the soda away. Mal bitches if he catches me with a soda at the helm or my feet on the controls. Ah, he means well. Besides, I have him to thank for the two greatest ladies in my life...

Anywhere where there's a ship to fly and Zoë's with me...that's home.


	5. Companion Inara

Ask me a year ago if I would be having these thoughts, and I would have told you "no."

A Companion is an honored profession. We are cultured and educated since early childhood to be the perfect woman, skilled in music, dance, appearance...and yes, techniques of sexual pleasure. Wealthy men (and a few women) pay large fees for my company. 

I am not bound by the dictates of most polite society women. Marriage is a way to insure paternity of the children so that the family line can continue, and to cement business and social alliances between the families. Save for the poor or working classes, it is for business. In such an arrangement, a Companion provides pleasure, a necessary respite from the demands of commerce. I am quite wealthy, and have my pick of a diverse client base. Contracts are simple, and I have autonomy.

When has it changed? I had never questioned the honor or the need for my profession until recently. 

I rented the shuttle on Serenity. Simple business arrangement. I needed a way to get from planet to planet, especially on those my services would be needed most. This ship was willing to fly to those destinations. 

What was odd was that most vessels would be honored to accommodate me. Malcolm was a tough sell. I could tell he wasn't from my world. His plainspoken frontier dialect, the way he spoke of the Alliance, and the simplicity of his ship said that right away. I wasn't under any illusions, either - I knew Serenity would be used for smuggling. I figured that would tip things in my favor.

He listened patiently to my caveats and conditions of contract with only a raised eyebrow. Using charm didn't work, either. He saw right through it, called me a whore, and I would have walked out right then. I'm not entirely certain why I didn't. Perhaps I would have if I hadn't been so intrigued. You see, usually men fall over themselves in my presence and Mal was a challenge. He was perfectly willing to uphold my conditions, so long as I paid what he asked for in rent.  

Since we were able to hammer out a deal, Mal has treated me like a crewmember. He's made no attempt to hide what he thinks of my profession, and I've brought to his attention some of the less-than-legal things he does. Yet, I can see that he respects me. It's something I'm not used to. I'm used to jealous looks from wives, possessive stares from men, and the eyes of clients, either tense from work or hazy with lust...I'm used to being a profession, not necessarily a person.

And to see the others - Zoë and Wash demonstrating that marriage needn't be another business arrangement; the Shepherd with his books and his thoughts; Kaylee, who looks up to me like an older sister; Jayne's rough and quirky manners; and poor Simon and River. Simon looks just as out of place as I do, knows and understands my world. Had he been a little older, his family probably would have found a good society wife for him, and he'd be on my client list. He threw it all away on something that no one in our world can afford - sentimentality. 

Right now, I'm sitting in the mess hall, a data pad of poetry in my lap as River braids my hair.  I fear the poor girl is quite mad, but she does have a good heart. Repetitive tasks calm her. 

"You're thinking again," she says. "Thinking of why you're here?"

How does the girl do it? Shepherd sometimes calls her a lost angel. Oftentimes, she does seem to be part of another world, knowing things the rest of us can't while our ways of perception are just as alien to her.

She ties a ribbon into my hair and gets up, shuffling towards the door. She pulls her ratty shawl around her. Just as she gets to the door, she turns around and says, slowly and so quietly I strain to hear.

"We care about you. That's why you're here."

Then, she is gone. 


	6. Kaylee

If someone told me about this six months ago, I never would have pictured it! I am having the time of my life!

Daddy was always broke. Sure, he could fix things and taught me how, but we never had much. Never thought I'd ever get to see anything further than Callahan's Point! Mama was always busy. Big family and not much money tends to make you occupied. Besides, she knew I couldn't cook, and my sewing was bad enough to make the cat laugh, but I certainly liked engine parts, grease, and daddy's tool shed. She would tell me I'd need a bit more refining if I ever wanted to be a good wife and mama. 

Well, I wasn't too refined when I found this fella. Mechanic on a ship he tells me. Well, he was really cute and I wanted to see the engines. Sad part was, while he was really cute, he wasn't that good with his equipment - both the ship's and the one 'neath his belt. If he'd been a little better, I might not have been watching those engines. Well, I'm glad he wasn't so great at screwing, else I'd not have my job.

I don't suppose many ship mechanics can say they met their captains when their dress was hiked up, but Cutie tried to feed Mal a line about a bad engine part, and I knew he was full of hot air. Just to play with him, I tell Mal what's really gone haywire with his engine. Well, I show Mal how simple it is to get his ship running and he offers me a job!  Made Cutie really pissed off.

I write Daddy every week, and make sure Mal sends part of my salary to 'em. He's the best - almost like the big brother I wish I had. I get to see the galaxy and spend all day in the engine room. I've also been to a big party where I got to wear a pretty dress, eat fancy food, and dance most of the night. We've had times where I've been so scared, but I don't tell Daddy 'bout those. Don't want him to worry.  

Lotsa interesting people on this ship. Inara is so pretty - almost like a china doll I saw in a store once. Wash and Zoë are my kinda people - easy to talk to, especially Wash. Zoë found a good fella with that one. River's crazy, but something awful was done to her to get her that way. Shepherd's a kind old man, but I gotta wonder why he's aboard. Jayne's as hung up on guns as I am with engines, and that's just fine with me. Then there's Simon - really cute and real smart, but damn the man's gullible. Guess I'll have to teach him. 

Meantime, I'm looking at my pretty dress and listening to a music chip I borrowed from Inara. She says it's a guy named Bach who wrote this and it's over 800 years old! Wow. Y'know, a gal could get real used to the spacing life. Real used to it indeed.


	7. Jayne

Five...or is it four...ah, hell, I don't count, aside from paydays. So, it was about seven paydays ago that I'm out with my old gang. Pay was standard, planetfolk made good pickins...thought I was doing all right.

Try to rob these guys. We knew they were smuggling. Knew they were smuggling some high-grade whiskey, too. Right under Alliance noses and outta reach of their dumb tariffs. Figured whatever we couldn't drink would fetch a mighty nice price. Goonie, Dawdle, and I ambush 'em just as they are ready for take-off.  There's three guns on Mal and Zoë, and I expected them to be spooked. Instead, Mal tells me I'm being cheated, and offers me a job. Well, I ain't one to turn down a good offer. Besides, Goonie couldn't keep his mouth shut. 

I'll hand it to the captain of this boat, he doesn't flinch easy and he pays real good. Zoë's a knockout, though what she sees in that screwball pilot's anyone's guess. I have my pay, meals, and even my own bunk. All I gotta do is be the muscle when muscle is needed. 

A'course, this job's proving to be a little more complicated than a lot of the others. We've got that high-class harlot aboard. Then there's the doctor and his crazy sister. Even better is that preacher who's got the room near mine. He's all quiet and studying his book. Serenity ain't like no other gang I've been with, so at least this isn't a boring job.

Did I mention the pay's good?


	8. Dr Simon Tam

Three months, two weeks, and six days. 

I'm cleaning up the sickbay. I'm surprised this model of ship has one, but it does, and it's my place now. The equipment here is hideously primitive - like something out of the twentieth century on most of it! Any further in the backwoods, and I'd be using bone saws and leeches. 

I think this crew…well...I'm sure you've heard the jokes the Core Worlds call the frontier. Family trees that don't branch, people who are too damn ignorant to understand elementary concepts like land cruisers, who don't bathe and can't read, and spend their time shooting at each other.  I hate to admit that the stereotype holds water in some cases, but it doesn't in others. I'm just hoping I don't say something stupid and get River and I stranded somewhere.

The crew has never seen her the way she was before. She and I could not be separated when we were young. One of my earliest memories…I was five years old when she was born. One night, she was sick, crying all night. I stayed awake most of the night to be by her crib, singing nonsense to her, talking to her, trying to mask the fact that I was scared because I didn't know what was wrong with her or how to help. 

"Shh, mei-mei. Go to sleep. Don't be scared…"

I hear the same old words on the bad nights, and it shocks me to hear a man's voice - I'm always five years old again when I say them. 

I'm used to taking care of her. It's maybe why I got into medicine - I'm so used to taking care of someone who's sick that it comes naturally. Well, Dad also had a hand in it, I suppose. The funny part is that he never talked about plans for River. At the time, I didn't notice. As Inara can tell you, a rich girl's job is to be a good society wife - supportive, ornamental, and next to useless.

When River hit her teens, things started to get strange. Mom and Dad had business to take care of and appearances to maintain. River just made those appearances a lot harder. Mom and Dad spent a lot of time arguing about her future. I was being a real ass at the time - full of myself and wanting to make Dad proud. The last thing I needed, I thought, was an overly bright baby sister. Besides, Dad was big on the notion of "a place for everyone, and everyone to their place." River didn't fit the vision he had for her. In trying to make him proud, I took on his worst features for a while.

As disgusted as it makes me now, I actually had been relieved when Mom and Dad sent her away to the facility. Having to live without her, though...it made me realize just how much she means.

Just as he had wanted, I became a hotshot surgeon. Ten years they said, and I would have been Chief of Surgery in a top-rated hospital. As I was finishing my residency, the letters came. I wrote River, and we discussed the usual bland pleasantries. In one of her letters, though, she misspelled some words. River never misspelled words.

When we were children, we used to play games with codes. One of us would write something, and the other would try to break the code. River usually beat me. I decoded one of the messages though…

HELP, GE-GE!

To make things ever more strange, I'd have a lot of nightmares about River. Couldn't talk to anyone about them, and they were driving me nuts. Mom and Dad were working on finding me a nice girl, but I started asking questions and started looking into the place they sent River. Being what I was, and having my place in the social ladder I had, I pulled strings to find out what exactly was going on.

I...saw things I wasn't supposed to. The answers I got back shattered my faith...in everything. They used people at that facility. Not just the mentally ill, but prisoners from the War, slaves...They were branded, injected with all kinds of disease and chemicals, and their reactions noted carefully until they died - they were thrown in an incinerator like trash. It was like something I read from the Middle Ages or the twentieth century - torture wearing a scientific mask. 

It took everything I had, laundering assets, faking Ids...things I never thought I'd ever do.  I'm wanted on several charges now - not the least of which is "grand theft" - yes, thanks to Mom and Dad, River is no longer a "person," she is "property."

Sometimes, she doesn't seem to understand how much I had to lose in order to get her out of that hellhole. But when she looks at me sometimes, I know that she does understand - far too well. She also knows other things...it's like she can read minds, or see what's about to happen. It happened when we were kids, but it's a lot more frequent now. It scares me.

I still am a doctor...Well, my license has probably been revoked the instant my arrest warrant showed up.  I can never go back, and I know it. Sooner or later, they will find me - and I'll likely wind up finding out just what was done to River because they'll do it to me.

Mal is the only one I've told this, though I'm betting River knows too...if we're captured, and there isn't going to be a way out for us without sacrificing the ship...there is something fast-acting and fairly painless in the upper right cabinet, far in the back and two doses left - one for her, one for me. 

All Mal did was request a third dose for himself if it comes to that. 

I hope it never comes to that.


	9. River Tam

Time…

An illusory concept, one that holds no meaning for me anymore.

Furure, past, present - they're all the same now, and the chorus in my head sings on and on. I've learned how to sort them, and it's a lot more clear since ge-ge found the medicine on Ariel. 

Can't talk too much, it's so noisy on this ship. Who knew space could be so loud? They are all clashing rhythms, different dances, and I can't find a way for my feet to trace the steps and follow the beat.

Ge-Ge is like he always is - guitars and the electronic beep of hospital machines. Very slow and sad when he looks at me, like something dying in him or in me - there is just too much other noise to understand totally. Sorry, Simon. I wish you could hear what I hear, but then you'd be like me, and I know that makes you scared- your inner noise sounds like someone going into shock or falling to death when you try to think about what the Hands did when they pulled me under.

The big one with the girls' name - kettledrums and horns. Loud and rude and blasting. Can't keep his dirty thoughts to himself. And he likes that shirt - the one with the faded logo when I see when close my eyes and I start to drown because ge-ge's drugs are wearing off and I can feel that which can understand slip beneath the waves. See in him the love of pain and death. He's like a little boy pulling wings from flies. Simon did that once until I cried…

Kaylee's fingers dance a ballet when she works. She is flight of the bumblebee played on engines. It all buzzes and crackles. She is a joyful tune, and it is easy to understand and dance to, and the music from her player…Bach on the tinny little system, sounding so bad, but so much like her that I do not notice and want to dance with her.

Wash is a strange noise - more guitars, but not the classical type - more modern and experimental, never the same song with him. Loud, soft, but not medium jazz or rock beat, or something that is like steel drums and silver bells. Steel drums trying to play jazz with a saxophone and maybe a cello. I cannot tell. His bride is all harsh percussion - metal xylophone or the bangs and creeks on pipes…the sound of sticks on metal, sometimes soft and gentle like wind chimes, sometimes clashing and angry and more scary than the rude man. When I hear them join in love, it is windchimes and saxophone, and it a favorite song. 

Preacher likes to think he sounds like gospel. I know what he sounds like - and it is not gospel. I hear the hymns with him, but I also hear foreboding…something he think is far away in him sounds like screaming and the sound of glass breaking and gunfire. It does not go well with the hymns.

The saddest songs were those I had not expected. They are the ones who take the sounds of others.

Inara goes silent a lot. She must play what tunes others want her to play and dance to their music. When the dance is over and the song is done, someone gives her gold and walks away. Her own music quiets. She knows this, too, wonders if her own song will eventually silence for good. On some level, she wants and fears the silence. Her own music is played on harps, a beautiful tune that goes silent heartbreakingly often.

Sad-eyed captain sounds like a reed flute when he thinks the rest of us cannot hear- broken and hollow, a sad note coming from the pipes.  I still hear the reed flute when others are around, but he sounds like a symphony, ranging wildly - crash of symbols, snap of snare drums, the soft violin…he takes the many instruments of the others and they all play through him, like a conductor commanding the grand orchestra. It is only when he is alone that you hear the lone reed flute.

Time has no meaning here - a bad dream of people chasing me. While I stay, I hear eight songs - all beautiful in their own way. It's the music that makes the nightmare somewhat tolerable.

Will I still hear the music when I wake up?


End file.
